Chapter Twenty
“The base is under attack!” The giant’s voice cut through the air like an electric shock.
I stood with my back pressed against the wall as I met Sebastian’s enraged gaze. He had raised his arm to deliver a one handed slash at my head when the giant called out. Although I was poised on the balls of my feet to dive out of the way, I didn’t like the odds. Even in his present condition I knew how good Sebastian was with a sword. With nothing to parry his blow it was likely that he would cut me down before I could get out of the range of his strike.
For several moments we stood frozen in that pose. Then Sebastian lowered his arm and stepped back a pace. Glancing over his shoulder he gestured to the giant.
“Watch them,” he said.
The giant had been standing over Ian’s prostrate form with his hands clamped around his throat. He straightened, dragging Ian up from the floor. Striding toward the wall where I was standing he roughly slammed Ian into place beside me. Ian managed to keep to his feet as he gulped air and glared at the giant. Following his lead, Angela hoisted Morgana up. She lifted her into the air by the front of her clothing and tossed her at us like a rag doll. I managed to place myself between her and the wall and took most of the force of the impact.
“I’m fine,” Morgana said me as I steadied her, although she was leaning most of her weight on me. She looked anything but fine. A nasty bruise was beginning to darken the left side of her face where her head had struck the floor and that eye was swollen half shut. After a few moments she took her full weight back. She seemed to be standing easily enough by that time so I let go of her.
A quick glance at Ian told me that the big man was not fine however. He stood hunched over with his right arm clamped tightly to his side. His complexion was pale and he was breathing in short, ragged gasps through clenched teeth. He caught me looking at him and shook his head. Before I could say anything to him Doc and Chris were herded against the wall by Angela. Doc must have seen Ian’s expression because he went right up to him and gave him a quick check over. A gentle touch to Ian’s side brought a sharp intake of breath and a twisted grimace.
“You’ve got a couple of broken ribs,” Doc said. “Try not to move too much.”
Ian grunted in response.
I looked over at the giant and saw a satisfied smile flicker across his features. Then he brought his hand up to tap his comm-link and listened briefly.
“The sensor operators are reporting a sortie of nine fighters approaching the tunnel entrance,” the giant rumbled to Sebastian without taking his eyes off of us.
For the next few minutes we followed the doomed fighter assault. Sebastian brought up another holographic display, allowing us to view the one-sided battle. We watched as the hellhound missile attack was thwarted by the base defenses and then as the defensive batteries destroyed ship after ship of the attacking force until only a pair of crippled fighters were left to crawl back to the carrier. A hard knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I watched my people being picked off one by one. With those defensive batteries in place to support the action of the big guns, any attempt to assault the pirate stronghold was going to result in heavy losses.
When the last fighter had limped behind the protection of a large asteroid, Sebastian turned to face me again.
“It didn’t have to be like this,” he said through clenched teeth. From his expression he was plainly blaming me for what was happing outside.
“What did you expect?” I snapped, trying to keep my temper in check. “Your pirates are rampaging across the galaxy, killing and looting at will. The economies of every major star nation are on the verge of collapse. Did you really think that governments were just going to sit back and do nothing?”
For a moment he looked confused. Then he seemed to collect himself.
“The fools would not listen to Us,” Sebastian growled. “We offered them Our leadership, Our wisdom, and they turned Us out in favor of Our stripling nephew. And what has been the result? All of the changes, all of the progress We had made over the course of many years has been undone in mere months. Our people need mature leadership. You see, Captain, it is not for Our own glory that We seek to return to the throne. The people need Us to lead them in the right direction. We know what is best for them.”
I wondered how many leaders throughout the ages had deluded themselves into believing that they alone knew what was best for those they governed. I met his eyes. Madness shone there.
I said, “Murdering innocent merchant crews, forcing the populations of entire nations into wholesale poverty, igniting a war that will result in the deaths of countless billions of innocent people, this is what is best for everyone?”
Sebastian raised his chin. “If some must be sacrificed to serve the greater good, then so be it. It is no more than the pruning of excess branches. More the fool you for not realizing this simple truth. But do not lay this trouble at Our feet. The peoples of Gilead and the other star nations brought this on themselves when they cast Us out. We are simply doing what must be done to set things aright.”
Pruning branches? These were people’s lives he was talking about. I shook my head. I was afraid that he might be too far lost in his delusions to reach, but I had to try.
“Commandant,” I began slowly, “you have been lied to. Someone has been using you to—”
“Silence!” Sebastian yelled. “You have no right to speak to Us in such a manner!”
His hand reached for the hilt of his saber and jerked it part-way out of its scabbard. I held my breath as I waited to see if he was going to draw on me again. After a while however he relaxed his grip, letting it slide back into its sheath.
“You are but a pawn in a game that you cannot possibly understand,” Sebastian said, giving me a distasteful look. “But it is not you as much as it is the ones who hold your leash that We must hold to account, those who sent you here in the foolish hope that you might be able to disrupt Our plans. As you see, you have failed. And like any vicious dog you must in the end be put down.” I felt an icy chill go through me at his words.
“However, We would first know the exact nature of your orders. For that, We will leave you to Leonard’s tender mercies. He has never yet failed to, shall We say, convince agents such as yourself to divulge whatever information they possessed. We suggest that you tell him whatever he wants to know. It will go better for you in the end. Well, if not better, then at least quicker.” He paused to study me briefly. “Although, it has been Our experience that men such as yourself tend to foolishly cling to what you consider honor and usually refuse to cooperate—at least in the beginning. In the end however, they all offer up everything they know. Leonard can be very … persuasive. Farewell, Captain Pell. Die honorably.”
The giant gave a jerk of his head, indicating for us to move toward the room’s entrance. He brought us half way across the compartment and stopped us in the center of the room where he could watch us. Then he took a few steps toward the jammed doors, glanced at the shorted out control panel and looked at Angela. She sauntered casually over to the panel and grasped the protruding knife handle. Although the blade was buried deeply in the panel she withdrew it easily.
“Cute toy,” she said as she examined the weapon. She flipped it casually, caught it by the blade, then tossed it again to take it by the handle once more. She looked at Morgana, smiled, and grabbed the bare blade with her other hand. With what seemed to be little effort she snapped the blade in two and dropped the pieces to the floor. Turning back to the panel she grabbed it by the edges with one hand and effortlessly ripped it from the wall. Reaching into the opening she began making adjustments to disengage the safeties and release the security doors.
At that moment an intense explosion erupted in the hallway. The force from the blast was so great that both doors were ripped from their tracks and hurtled into the room. Angela was standing right next to
the doors and was struck hard by the edge of the one nearest to her as it was blasted from its frame. She flew back into the room, slammed into the Commandant’s desk and tumbled across it to land in a heap on the far side. This time she did not get up right away.
The blast was so strong that my group was forced to cling to each other to keep our balance. Even the giant took several staggering steps as he struggled to remain on his feet. Moments after the blast several figures came hurrying through the swirling smoke.
“You fools!” Sebastian roared. He had barely managed to keep from being knocked to the floor by clutching the edge of his desk. “What in hell did you think you were doing? You could have…”
His voice failed him as he watched the figures pouring in through the opening. They were not the guards he was obviously expecting. A dozen spacesuited figures materialized out of the billowing smoke, blaster rifles sweeping the room ahead of them. At a gesture from their leader six men approached the giant and leveled their rifles at him, six red dots from their laser sights centering on his chest. The giant glared at the men who were standing just out of his reach and slowly raised his hands. Another gesture from the leader sent four more men to cover Sebastian.
With the situation under control, the leader strode over to me, reached up, twisted and removed his helmet. I found myself looking into Mark’s grinning face.
“What kept you?” I said.
Mark pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and grinned even wider. A rustle behind me drew my attention. I glanced back and saw Angela struggling to pull herself up from the floor.
“You need to get several guns on her right away,” I warned him. Mark called two of his team away from the giant and one more from Sebastian to cover her. He knew what she was and the threat she represented. As his people lined the prisoners up in front of Sebastian’s desk, Mark gestured to the last man in his party. The man approached and slung his rifle on one shoulder then slid up his suit’s visor to reveal Max’s face.
“Captain,” Max said as he handed me a holstered blaster. It was the first time in my life that he had ever addressed me as anything other than Sire or Your Highness. I could tell by his expression that he was a little uncomfortable with the informality but understood the necessity of maintaining my cover. I also saw that he was careful to keep his face turned away from Sebastian as he distributed weapons to the others.
I quickly checked the gun, flicked the safety off, then affixed the holster to the thigh of my pants by the velcrite strip on its side.
“Any trouble getting in?” I asked Mark.
He raised the muzzle of his rifle and rested the stock on his hip in what I suppose he thought was a dashing pose. “Not a bit,” he said. “We used the hatch in the starboard cargo bay to leave the ship without being seen and made our way around to the construction dock. Like we figured, the security on the worker’s airlock wasn’t hard to bypass.” He tipped the muzzle of his rifle at Angela. “Her map turned out to be pretty accurate, too. It helped us find our way right here. Thanks,” he said, smiling at her. Angela glared back at him but held her tongue. “The few pirates we did run into never knew we were there until we had them surrounded. There’s less of them manning this base than you would think, given its size. Most of the people here were slaves.”
I nodded as he spoke. I had suspected as much. With their prisoners’ movements restricted by obedience collars, a large number of slaves could be controlled by a small number of guards.
“What did you do with them?” I asked.
“By now all the slaves should be aboard the Prometheus. We took a number of key cards from the guards and used those to shut down the security arches around the doorways that would have set off their collars. That seemed to be major security feature here. They were so concerned with keeping the slaves in that they didn’t have much more than token measures to keep anyone out.”
“And the pirates?” I asked.
Mark grinned again. “Locked in the slave barracks.”
“Excuse me,” one of the slaves that had been serving dinner had come up to us as Mark was giving me his report. I recognized her as the woman who had poured my wine. There was a hard resolution in her eyes that reminded me of what I had seen in the eyes of the group we had led to freedom from Rabine’s plantation. It told me that in spite of whatever the pirates had done to her they had not broken her spirit. “Is it true that you’re here to rescue us?”
“I won’t lie to you,” I said. “Our mission wasn’t to rescue slaves. In fact we didn’t know that there was anyone here except the pirates. But we’re sure as hell not going to leave anyone behind now that we’re here.” I gestured to her obedience collar. “And we’ll get that damned thing off your neck as soon as we can, too.”
“Thank you,” she said, her eyes glistening.
“What’s your name?” I asked her.
“Sasha Goodkin,” she answered.
“Sasha, can you get your people together and wait for us by the doorway? We’ll be heading back to our ship in a minute, but I want you to wait for us. We can’t be sure that we rounded up all of the pirates and the corridors might not be safe.”
“Of course, Captain,” she said in a voice that sounded like she was used to taking charge.
As she moved off to gather the other slaves together, I turned and walked over to Sebastian. I was careful to keep out of both Angela and the giant’s reach as well as out of the line of fire of the men covering them. My uncle’s eyes blazed hatred at me as he stood supporting himself with one hand on his desk. The excitement from the recent events seemed to have taken a toll on him. His complexion had paled even more and I noticed that the arm he was using to support himself trembled slightly. He seemed as if he needed to sit down but was stubbornly refusing to let me see his weakness.
“We suppose Our idiot nephew will reward you for bringing Us back to face his so called justice,” he said. I ignored his taunting. His saber had been taken from him and he was too weak to pose a threat. As he stood there facing me in a uniform that had become too large for his wasted frame he looked like a pathetic shadow of his former self. I wondered if any trace of the man I had once known was still inside him.
“What happened to make you so bitter?” I asked.
Sebastian pushed himself away from the desk and glared at me. “How dare you speak to Us in such a manner! We are of the Royal House and you will address Us with the respect due one of Our standing!” So much for being a saucy fellow who could banter with him. Time to try a different tack.
“Your Grace,” I said, “are you aware that someone has been slowly poisoning you for the past several years?”
A scowl drew his eyebrows together. “What nonsense is this,” he snapped, but I could see that I had struck a chord in him.
“Our ship’s doctor did a medical scan on you earlier and detected residual traces of a powerful drug in your system. It’s the cumulative effects of this drug that have been causing your health to deteriorate.”
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at me. “You are lying. We have not been poisoned.”
I glanced at Doc Jacobs who stepped forward. “I’m sorry, um, Your Grace, but you have. You’ve been having trouble with your memory, haven’t you. It was probably minor at first but over the last couple of months it’s gotten a lot worse. You’re also finding yourself getting confused whenever you try to concentrate.” Sebastian’s frown deepened as he listened but he said nothing. “There have been other symptoms, too—trembling in your arms and hands, facial tics, sudden flashes of anger for no reason. You feel tired now after even minor exertion and your joints have become stiff and painful.”
“What you are describing are merely the normal signs of aging,” Sebastian said, but the doubt was evident in his voice.
“No, sir,” Doc said emphatically. “They aren’t. Neither are those purple smudges under your nails.”
Sebast
ian looked down at his hands. Dark purple crescents that looked like some kind of ugly bruising showed at the base of each of his nails.
“That’s the result of the accumulated toxins in your tissues,” Doc continued.
“But … that’s not possible,” Sebastian said as he stared off into the distance, a confused look on his face as his mind worked. “How…”
“It’s probably being introduced in something you eat or drink,” Doc said. “If it’s what I suspect, the compound we’re talking about is odorless and tasteless and breaks down very quickly inside the body, making it difficult to detect without doing a microscan of the brain tissue.” Sebastian looked up, meeting his eyes. Doc went on. “The drug is called Vistarax. It’s a neural inhibitor originally developed as an antipsychotic agent. But it was found to have other effects. Quite simply it plays on a person’s fears and insecurities causing the subject to develop a feeling of paranoia as well as making them susceptible to suggestion. In this condition it is easy for another person to impress ideas on them. Over a long enough time, a skillful person can even manipulate the subject into believing things that had never actually happened.”
I interrupted at that point when I saw Sebastian’s expression darken. “What he means is that someone has been feeding this poison to you to make you do things against your will.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head in denial. “It’s not true. You’re wrong. You’re lying!”
Sebastian grasped his head with both hands as he struggled to come to grips with what we were telling him.
“I think you know that we’re telling you the truth,” I said calmly.
“But he wouldn’t do something like that,” Sebastian said, still trying to deny what I suspected he knew to be the truth. “He wouldn’t.”
Angela’s head snapped around and she shot a hard look at him.
Sebastian continued to wage his internal battle for several moments before he finally lowered his hands and looked up. “He told me—”
I have no idea where Angela had hidden the knife. Faster than the eye could follow, she plunged it into Sebastian’s neck. Blood spurted from his throat as she yanked the blade free. Even as Sebastian began to sag toward the floor Angela grabbed the desk behind her and flung it at the men holding their rifles on her. She had moved so quickly that they didn’t have the chance to fire off a shot before the heavy desk slammed into them, bowling them over like so many tenpins.
Diving aside, I just managed to avoid being hit by the desk myself. Morgana had jumped with me and together we both shoulder rolled and came back to our feet. At that moment I was very glad of the time she had been making me put in at the gym. I would never again complain that she was pushing me too hard.
As soon as we were back on our feet, I did a quick scan of the room. By then Sebastian had slumped to his knees, his eyes as wide as saucers while his mouth worked silently like a suddenly beached fish as he tried to staunch the rush of blood with his hands. Across the room Angela was sprinting toward a blank section of wall with the giant close behind her. She reached the wall quickly and pushed open a disguised panel that led to a hidden passage. Beside me I saw Morgana draw her blaster in a lightning move and fire off a shot at our fleeing quarry. But the giant had stepped directly behind Angela at that exact moment and the shot struck him in the back as he was moving through the open panel. He stumbled and gave a low grunt but kept moving.
Morgana darted after them the instant after she fired, but the panel slammed closed just before she reached it. No amount of pushing or banging on it could force it to open for her.
As Morgana tried to find a way to go after them, I moved to Sebastian’s side. I knelt and put my arm around his shoulders and held him as he slowly began to sag backward. The bones of his once broad shoulders felt like sticks in a loose bag. As I lowered him gently to the floor his eyes met mine in a silent plea, but there was nothing I could do for him. His blood flowed warm and sticky across my hand and up my sleeve as I supported him in his final moments.
“Who is it? Who did this to you?” I asked him desperately.
Tears welled in his eyes and ran down the sides of his face. His mouth worked slowly as he tried to speak but the only sound he was able to make was a strangled gurgling as bloody spittle ran from the edge of his lips.
I leaned in close, lowering my voice so that only he could hear me. “Uncle, please, tell me who did this to you.”
He blinked several times in confusion before understanding finally showed in his eyes. I nodded as his probing gaze searched my face.
“Yes uncle, it’s me. Please tell me who did this.”
He held my eyes for several moments, and for just an instant I thought I saw a shadow of a smile touch his lips. Then a sickening choking sound came from his throat as his eyelids fluttered and began to close. His chest spasmed once, twice, then slowly deflated. The blood flowing from the wound in his throat slowed to a trickle then halted altogether as his heart gave up the fight.
And he was gone.
I slid my arm from underneath him and stood up. Pity, rage and frustration battled inside me as I stood looking down at his body. We had come so close! We had followed every lead, had analyzed every clue, and had finally reached what we thought was the end of the trail, only to find that is was a blind. I had tried my best and had failed. Someone else had been pulling Sebastian’s strings all along, manipulating him and us from the shadows like a master puppeteer. How long this had been going on we couldn’t be sure but based on his condition Doc estimated that the drug had first been introduced into Sebastian’s system ten years ago or more.
Ten years ago. My parents had been alive then. They had been in their prime with long lives ahead to look forward to. I myself had been a teenager, young and naïve I realized now, fixated on the time when I would be old enough to enter the Fleet academy and begin my training to become an officer. In those days my head had been full of visions of myself resplendent in my dress uniform, leading fleets of warships into heroic battles against overwhelming swarms of enemies, and returning triumphant to the adoring cheers of the people. The business of managing the Kingdom had been something far off in the hazy future, a distant time when my parents would be too old to keep up with the demands of office. They would retire then to enjoy many peaceful years together while I took up the mantle of rule.
It was a child’s dream, idyllic perhaps, but one at least based in reality. And I missed it. I resented the loss of the future that should have been mine. My parents should still be alive, still guiding the affairs of the Kingdom in their wisdom. I should be serving as a rising officer in the Fleet, still several years away from my first command. Yet that life had been denied to me.
At that moment I was feeling very young, very vulnerable, and very alone.
I looked up as Morgana came up beside me and I met her eyes. Something in her look told me that she understood what I was feeling. Then I glanced around at the others with me. I could feel their warmth and support as they waited for my next orders.
I felt my mood shift. No, I was not alone. And together we were going to get this son-of-a-bitch who was playing games with our lives. For ten years he had spun his plans, working his evil from the shadows. But I knew he was out there now and I was determined to root him out. I didn’t know what his ultimate aim was but I was not going to rest until this bastard was brought to justice.
I squared my shoulders and turned back to Morgana. “Can we go after them?”
“The door locked behind them,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s no way to open it from this side. That panel’s a solid sheet of synthesteel. It’s going to take something more powerful than hand blasters to get through there.”
I nodded and turned to Mark. “We need to catch them if we can. Do you have any more…” I broke off then as I heard something. Mark started to speak but I waved at him to keep quiet. It was there again. I
t was like the echo of a low boom from a great distance. Moments later it came again. As all of us paused to listen, the booming began to return at irregular intervals. Sometimes it seemed close, at other times far off. Occasionally I could also feel a faint trembling through the decking beneath my feet. I suddenly knew that sound.
“The battle group is bombarding the asteroid,” I said. I exchanged a quick look with the others. Those ships were quite capable of reducing this asteroid to gravel.
“Change of plans,” I said. “It’s time to go.” I hated losing Angela and the giant but we needed to get moving before the base came down around us. As everyone started toward the open doorway I paused to glance down at Sebastian’s body. He was still my uncle, no matter what he had done, and since learning that he had been under the influence of a mind controlling drug for a decade or more I wondered how responsible he actually was for his actions.
“I want to take the Duke’s body with us,” I said.
Two men were detailed to bring the body. In his emaciated state they were able to carry him easily between them.
The others were waiting for me at the doorway, weapons at the ready. I wiped my hand on my uniform to clean off as much of the blood as I could and drew my pistol. Nodding for Mark to take the lead I moved to help Doc with Ian. We encountered pirates only once on our way back to the ship. It was a group of three men who took one look at us and fled full-out in the opposite direction. Most of their people had been sent to reinforce the forward bunker leaving only a few guards and technicians left to man the main complex.
We moved at a brisk pace and arrived at the airlock to our ship in minutes. The slaves hesitated until I pointed out that the warning lights around the hatch were off. Even then they were still reluctant to step up to the doorway until an especially loud explosion erupted closer than any we had heard before. The floor shook more noticeably than it had from any other blast accompanied by a groan of stressed metal. They hurried forward with the rest of us then.
We moved quickly through the airlock and into the boarding tunnel. I hammered the door control switch as we passed out of the airlock, sealing the base end of the tunnel behind us, then hurried to follow everyone into the ship. As soon as the last of us were through the gangway hatch I closed the ship’s doors and released the clamps which held the docking sleeve sealed against our hull. With a burst of escaping air, the docking sleeve began to automatically retract away from the ship. I sent the men carrying Sebastian’s body to the infirmary along with Doc and Ian, ordered the rest of the rescue party back to their duty stations, and turned to my officers.
“Any word from the team we sent to sabotage the guns?” I asked Mark.
He frowned. “No.”
I nodded and tried not to worry about my people. Clive and his team were seasoned combat men. They had been instructed not to use their comm units on the mission to prevent the pirates from picking up their transmissions, so the fact that we hadn’t heard from them meant nothing.
“Get to the bridge and have Tom break communications silence,” I said to Chris. “Contact the tactical team and find out the status of their mission. If those guns are still operational we’re not going anywhere. Then run an emergency preflight check. We need to be out of here five minutes ago.”
“You got it,” Chris answered before he turned and ran off.
I turned back to Mark, “I want you to power up the weapon systems as soon as you get to your post. I have a feeling we’re going to have to fight our way out of here.”
His eyes narrowed and he nodded. “We’ll be ready.”
My mind raced for a moment then I looked at Morgana. I really wanted her eyes watching the sensors. The pirates had subs and torpedoes and I needed someone with her experience who knew how to detect stealthed threats. Unfortunately, there was something equally important I needed her to do.
“We’re in a bit of a jam with Bobby off the ship,” I said to her. “We need someone to pilot us until he’s back and you’re the best qualified to fill in for him. I can cover your post from my command board until—”
“Excuse me, Captain,” a woman’s voice spoke up. I turned to find myself facing one of the freed slaves. I had almost forgotten about the others that had come with us. As I looked at her my memory supplied her name: Goodkin, Sasha Goodkin.
“Yes, Ms. Goodkin?”
“I can pilot this ship,” she said.
I frowned. “This ship isn’t like anything you’ve ever handled before. When was the last time you piloted something this size?”
Ms. Goodkin smiled sardonically. “I was the first officer on a galaxy class cargo transport called the Dawn Star before we were hijacked a few weeks ago. The company I worked for had made several cuts in crew size over the past years and I regularly took a shift at the helm to supplement my pay. I have a C-2 operator’s license. Please, Captain, if there’s anything I can do to help get us away from here I’ll do it. I want to help.”
Considering the trouble I’d had with the last outsider who had been allowed to helm the Prometheus, I should have had an immediate aversion to the idea. As I looked at her however I somehow felt that I could trust her. For one thing, I recognized the name of her ship. The Dawn Star was the transport Morgan had told me about just before we left on our mission. It was the ship whose hijacking had been such an enigma at the time because all it had been carrying was mining equipment, the same mining equipment we had just brought from Toula. According to Morgan’s report the Dawn Star was indeed a Galaxy class freighter. Ships in that class had an unladen mass over three hundred thousand long-tons. If she had experience handling something that big, the Prometheus should be no problem for her.
I regarded her for several moments. Normally I would never allow someone unknown to man the helm. As I looked into her earnest face however I realized that I needed to have my attention free to oversee everything happening around the ship. If I had to closely monitor the sensors as well as the command board, my attention was going to be divided. But if Sasha could pilot the ship then Morgana could man her normal post and I would be free to concentrate on the overall picture. She shouldn’t have to do anything more complicated than move us away from the berthing slip and start us toward the exit tunnel, something fairly simple for even a rookie pilot. She shouldn’t have to man the station for long either. Bobby and the others would be back aboard soon. And if it turned out that she couldn’t handle the ship I could always override her station from my command board.
“Alright,” I said. “Come with us.”
Sasha fell into place with the Morgana, Mark and me as we started for the bridge. As we crossed the portside passageway I suddenly realized just how crowded the ship was. We had taken aboard nearly five hundred additional people. They were huddled everywhere along the corridor bulkheads as far as I could see. I could only spare a brief glance into the anxious faces of the refugees filling the passageways but the sight of their haggard faces and emaciated bodies added fuel to the fire in my belly. The pirates had a lot to answer for.
We hurried to the main stairwell and rushed up to the command level. Sasha’s stride faltered for a moment when we stepped onto the bridge. The dilapidated appearance throughout the common areas of the ship had not prepared her for the ultra modern command center.
“This ship is more than it looks like at first glance,” I said as the others moved to their posts.
Sasha took a quick look around then continued toward the pilot’s seat. “You have a gift for understatement, Captain,” she said as she seated herself at the console.
I followed her to the helm and stood behind her as she familiarized herself with the controls. I felt myself relax as I saw her going through the controls in an organized fashion, carefully studying the instruments before she touched anything. When she did reach for a control it was with deft fingers that activated the right systems in the proper sequence.
“What do you
think?” I asked her after a few moments.
“It’s not much different from a Nebula class ore freighter I flew for a few years,” she said as she brought the engines on-line.
“Be very careful,” I cautioned her. “It’s got a lot more power than anything you’ve ever piloted before.”
She nodded without taking her eyes off the controls. “I don’t doubt it.” She glanced at a series of indicators. “Main drive system will be up to power in a few moments, Captain.”
Once I was sure that she knew what she was doing I moved to the command chair. I glanced across my board and saw that all onboard systems were being powered up for our departure. I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about how surprised the pirates were going to be when they realized that we had been able to regain control of the ship.
Shortly before we arrived at the pirate base, Barney, Mark and Ian had finally figured out how Angela had been able to take control of the ship so easily. I was stunned when they told me what they had discovered. The device she called the governor was not the real problem. It was little more than an interface unit with a single purpose: to communicate with an infiltration program that had already been planted throughout the ship’s systems. The way they had gotten the program aboard the ship in the first place however was ingenious. And frightening.
This infiltration program was not some rogue application that had been downloaded through an unsecure datanet connection, it was part of the ship’s own anti-virus software. Praetorian was more than just a powerful anti-virus application, it was actually a Trojan horse in disguise. Virtually everything on a ship from the main drive down to the door sensors was controlled by some type of software. By disguising their infiltration program as part of the virus protection application, the designers had built their own back door into every system on the ship. All they needed to do was transmit the proper command codes and they could take control of any system on any ship whenever they wanted to, or download whatever information they were interested in from any file. This also explained how the pirates had been able to access the supposedly secure databases of every transport combine throughout the galaxy. Virtually every computer system everywhere ran Praetorian for virus protection. Whoever controlled Praetorian for all intents and purposes also controlled all computer based technology throughout the galaxy.
Once Ian and the others understood just how Angela had been able to take control of the ship’s systems, removing the threat was simple. Using the protected files in the isolated core, the three of them had systematically deleted and reinstalled every operating system aboard the ship. It was a time consuming chore that could only be done once the ship had been powered down, but with patience and enough time they had eventually been able to purge the malicious software from every system aboard the ship. The only thing that hadn’t been reinstalled of course was the Praetorian program itself.
I settled back into my command chair as I felt the Prometheus coming to life around me. It felt good to be in full command of my ship again.
“Sir,” Tom called out. “I’ve been able to raise the tactical team. They report mission accomplished. They’re on their way back through the tunnels now and should reach the cavern in a few minutes.” He paused, cupping one hand to his earphone as he listened intently for a moment. When he spoke next his voice had taken on a somber tone. “They also report one casualty. It’s Bobby Dare, Sir. Colonel Mayweather says he’s been critically injured. They have him in stasis but the Colonel says he needs immediate medical treatment.”
I was reaching for the intercom even before he finished speaking. “Infirmary!”
Doc’s voice answered after a few moments. “Something tells me this isn’t a social call.”
“Doc, it’s Bobby. He’s been hurt. The tactical team is bringing him in now.”
“What happened?”
“We don’t know yet, but it’s serious enough that Clive had to put him in stasis.”
Doc muttered something under his breath, then, “I’ll have a medical team standing by.”
“Tell your people to meet them at the EVA airlock on B deck.”
“Will do. Infirmary out.”
I looked over at Tom. “Tell Clive we’ll pick them up at the tunnel entrance. Have them bring Bobby aboard through the airlock. If it’s that serious I don’t want to have to wait for the cargo bay to repressurize.”
“Aye, Sir,” Tom said as he turned back to his console.
As he relayed my message I swiveled toward Mark. “Run out the forward Gatling gun on the port side and target the mooring claw they’ve got holding us here.”
“Yes, Captain!” Mark said.
“Helm, stand by to get under way,” I ordered.
“Thrusters standing by,” Sasha said.
I brought up the targeting display for the gun on my board. The camera was looking back along the side of the hull to where the immense claw was clamped onto the ship. I watched as Mark centered the targeting reticle on the heavy manipulator arm.
“Fire Gatling gun,” I said.
A stream of dense slugs tore into the arm. I watched the bursts from the gun ripping into the arm for several moments then turned back to Sasha.
“Helm, engage the main drive. One percent thrust only.”
I saw Sasha stiffen briefly before she reached for her console. She had been expecting to move us out under thruster power but there wasn’t time for that now.
“Engaging main drive,” she responded as the engines powered up. “One percent thrust, aye.”
I could feel the ship vibrate beneath us as it struggled to pull away from the claw that held us securely. Structural stress began to register on my board but remained within tolerance levels. When we hadn’t broken free after several seconds I ordered her to increase thrust to five percent. I watched the engine output climb as she increased power.
“Engines at five percent,” Sasha reported after a few moments.
“Be ready to turn us away from the docking complex the second we’re under way,” I warned her. “We’re going to take off pretty quickly once we break free.” Ahead of us I could see the forest of derricks and support gantries that surrounded the docking complex where we were moored. If we crashed into those our escape would be short lived. But there was enough distance between us and them that she should be able to turn us aside safely. Just in case, I kept my hand near the override controls.
In spite of the increase in thrust we still weren’t moving more than a minute later. I upped the magnification on the gun camera. Although the rounds were doing a good job of chewing up the casing on the manipulator arm I realized that they were having little effect on the solid beam that formed its core. I studied the image for a moment.
“Mark, shift your fire about ten degrees right,” I said.
After a moment I heard him gasp as he realized what I was looking at. I watched as the cross hairs of the target reticle swung to center on the arm joint and he opened fire once more. This time the vibration in the ship was much more severe as the manipulator arm shuddered under the pounding assault. Soon ragged hunks of metal were being torn from the robotic limb.
“Jason!” Morgana’s voice grabbed my attention. “One of the missile cruisers just left its docking berth.” Those were the ships we had seen being loaded with ‘ship killer’ missiles.
I reduced the gun camera’s window and brought up the sensor scan. As I watched the sensor return the missile cruiser headed out into the middle of the cavern until it had positioned itself with a clear line of sight to our starboard hull and began turning in our direction. In that position they were outside the firing arc of our bow mounted laser and blaster cannons while having a clear field of fire at our exposed flank.
“Mark…” I said.
“I see it, Jason,” Mark said as he started rapidly pressing controls on his board.
“The cruiser is initiating a weapon scan,” Morgana warned.
r /> “Mark…” I said again.
“I’m working on it,” Mark said. My command board showed that he was running out both guns on our starboard side.
“Target lock,” Morgana said. “The enemy has us painted for— Missile launch! One weapon is closing!” At this range the missile would reach us in seconds.
“Mark!” I yelled.
“Now!” he said at the same moment.
Both guns opened fire on the inbound missile. A fraction of a second later the missile was caught in a cross fire and exploded. The ship shuddered even more violently for a moment as the shockwave from the exploding missile washed over us. As long as we remained tethered here we were sitting ducks.
“The missile cruiser is closing on our position,” Morgana said.
That was odd. Why would they want to close with us when they had the obvious tactical advantage? I studied the sensor display on my board for a moment then turned to Mark again.
“Put up the shields,” I ordered.
As the distance between our ships shrank it became apparent that they were not planning another missile launch. The closer they came the more they risked being caught in the explosion themselves. But a beam attack could still deal us serious damage without endangering their ship and I saw no reason to leave ourselves open to such an assault.
Even as I was thinking this the missile cruiser opened fire on us. A powerful laser slammed into the energy barrier protecting the command superstructure while blaster fire hammered at our starboard flank. Our shields had gone up just in time.
“Shields are holding,” Mark reported.
Suddenly a loud creaking sounded throughout the ship. I looked back at the gun camera to see the manipulator arm shift slightly. Hydraulic fluid was spurting from ruptured lines as the Gatling gun continued to tear apart the joint mechanism. I shifted my eyes to the sensors and saw that the missile cruiser was continuing to bear down on us. Its laser cannon raked across our shields as its blasters continued hammering at our flank. Glancing at a different section of my board I noted that power to the shields was dropping. If we continued to just sit here and take punishment the shields were going to fail.
“Increase thrust to ten percent,” I ordered, dividing my attention between the gun camera, the power reserves for the shields and the sensor scan of the approaching ship.
“Answering ten percent thrust,” Sasha reported a moment later. Trial by fire, I thought to myself as I glanced in her direction. She seemed composed and focused as she kept her attention locked on the controls. I hoped that she was as competent at the helm as she claimed. We were going to take off like a shot when we broke free. The creaking returned again, even louder this time. I noted that structural stress levels were red lining.
Suddenly, the manipulator arm failed completely, pulling apart at the joint. The Prometheus surged forward, half of the mooring arm still attached to our hull and trailing behind us. On my monitor I could see the exhaust from the main drive scorching the habitat walls. Even at just ten percent output, the power from the drive funnels was incredible. The metal habitat walls glowed red then white hot and began to slag wherever our exhaust touched. In moments explosive outbursts appeared as the softened walls ruptured, now no longer strong enough to contain the pressure of one atmosphere against the vacuum within the cavern. Furnishings and equipment spewed through the rents in the habitat hull. Then the heat of our exhaust touched off something volatile and a series of explosions erupted in our wake.
I shifted my eyes to the main screen and saw that we were hurtling toward the towering gantries and loading arms ahead. My hand darted toward the override controls but Sasha beat me to the punch. With reflexes that rivaled Bobby’s piloting skill, she turned the ship at the last instant, heading us out into the cavern to avoid crashing headlong into the projecting structures. She fired the breaking thrusters, slowing our headlong rush. The missile cruiser swung into view on the main screen as we turned to face it. As it drew closer, the cruiser’s crew opened up once again with its laser and blaster cannons, bathing our forward shields in a brilliant pyrotechnic display. That was when I decided I’d had all I was going to take from that ship.
“Take us out on a parallel course directly under her keel as close as you can manage,” I said to Sasha, then, “Mark, stand by starboard Gatling guns.”
The ship facing us was a Gilead Fleet vessel and I knew all about its capabilities as well as its weaknesses. Whoever was flying that ship was foolishly choosing to close with us, a tactical mistake they would regret. A missile cruiser was not designed for close in fighting. Its purpose was to stand off at a distance and launch missiles at an enemy while it stayed behind the protective line formed by the other ships in its fleet. But the pirates did not understand how to properly use the ship they had stolen. They would not be able to fire on us once we were beneath their keel. And that part of the ship also had the thinnest hull plating.
Moments later Sasha had us moving toward them on what looked like a collision course. On the main screen the missile cruiser grew quickly, its prow swelling to fill the entire screen. The laser beam and blaster fire from their ship continued to pound at our shields. Then, as we closed with the pirates, I saw the thrusters on the cruiser’s bow fire, bringing its nose up as the crew desperately tried to turn away at the last moment. Seconds later we were slipping in beneath them.
“Give me a ninety degree roll to port,” I ordered as we passed under the cruiser’s bow. The view on the main screen revolved as our ship rotated smoothly along its long axis, lining our starboard side up perfectly with the cruiser’s keel. The pattern of plate seams and other details on the cruiser’s hull were plainly visible on the main screen as we sped by, our ships no more than twenty meters apart. I spared a brief glance in Sasha’s direction. The lady knew how to handle a ship.
I looked at Mark. “Fire.”
He opened up with both Gatling guns, raking across the ship’s exposed underside. The slugs tore through the hull plating like it was cardboard. Atmosphere erupted through the lengthening rent in the ship’s hull followed quickly by a series of explosions as we opened section after section to space. Then a violent shudder passed through the entire length of the ship as an immense fireball spewed from its belly. The missile cruiser began to tumble out of control, its engines flaring erratically.
“They’re heading for that cluster of habitat modules where we were docked,” Morgana reported. “Or what’s left of it.” Our engines had already done quite a bit of damage. At the speed the cruiser was moving there would be very little left of either the ship or the habitat modules once it hit.
“Sucks to be them,” I said.
“Captain,” Tom called. “Colonel Mayweather is reporting that his team has just entered the cavern.”
“Tell them to hold position there. We’re on our way. Helm, take us to a heading of—”
“Jason!” Morgana’s voice called out. “A ship just pulled away from the habitat modules. It reads like a long range shuttle. I’m picking up two life signs aboard.”
No need to guess who that was.
“Rats leaving a sinking ship,” I said. “Let me guess, they’re heading for the tunnels.”
“Actually, no,” Morgana said in surprise as she studied her console. “They’re headed toward the opposite side of the cavern.”
“Track them,” I said. “I’ll bet anything they’re going for a secret bolt hole. But we need to pick up our people first. Helm, bring us around to the tunnel entrance, best possible speed.”
“Aye, Captain,” Sasha said as she turned us toward the place where our crewmen were waiting. The ship came about smoothly under her touch and accelerated toward the distant tunnel entrance. I was impressed with how well she had kept herself under control during our brief clash with the missile cruiser. She had proved that she could indeed handle the ship. I moved my hand away from the override controls and swiveled
toward Chris.
“Tell Doc to get his team into position at the EVA airlock. Have them depressurize the lock and open the outer hatch. We’re going to do this on the fly.” Then to Tom, “Contact Colonel Mayweather. Tell him to be ready to move his entire team into the lock as soon as we get there. They’ll have to leave the scooters.”
Less than a minute later the gaping entrance to the tunnels was looming ahead of us. Had Bobby been at the helm he would have sent us in some dizzying acrobatic tumble to line up our airlock with the waiting team. Sasha’s handling of the ship was different, but no less skillful. First she turned us to port, quickly rotating the ship through a flat, one hundred eighty degree spin to wind up with us flying backward. Then she rolled the ship eighty six degrees starboard to line up the EVA hatch with the team’s position and deftly fired the breaking thrusters to bring us to a dead stop beside them. They were aboard less than a minute after we stopped, then we were accelerating back across the cavern in pursuit the fleeing shuttle.
“They seem to be heading toward a tunnel on the far side of the cavern,” Morgana reported. “It’s a lot smaller than the way we came in.” The tone of her voice told me that we might be heading for a problem.
“Can we fit?” I asked.
She adjusted one of her scanners and I could tell from her expression that she was running a quick calculation in her head. “If we fly dead center we should have about … six meters clearance on all sides.”
That was not a lot of room for error, especially at the speeds we would need to be traveling at if we were to keep up with our quarry. Even so, I had seen what Sasha could do with the ship and I was developing a good deal of respect for her piloting skills. I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees.
“Miss Goodkin?” I said.
She turned and looked back at me over her shoulder.
“I can handle it, Captain,” she said, her eyes meeting mine steadily.
“Pursuit course,” I ordered and settled myself back into my seat. “Let’s run those bastards down.”
She turned back to her board and focused all her attention on following the fleeing transport. We were halfway across the cavern when I heard a warning tone coming from Morgana’s console.
“The second missile cruiser is powering up its engines,” Morgana said.
Damn! We didn’t have time for this. If we were forced to engage them we would almost certainly lose the shuttle.
“Mark, can you get a firing solution on it?”
Mark’s fingers played across his controls for a moment. “We’ve got a lock,” he said in a satisfied tone.
“Fire,” I ordered.
On the main screen I watched as the torpedo darted away from our ship and turned quickly to starboard, disappearing from view as it homed in on its target.
“Impact in twenty-three seconds,” Mark announced.
“I’m picking up a target scan from the missile cruiser,” Morgana said. “They’re locking on us. … Missile launch! Multiple contacts heading our way.”
My eyes darted to the sensor display on my board. I saw eight missiles heading toward us while the cruiser released another volley behind that one. Icy fingers gripped my insides. After seeing the way we had handled the attack by the other ship, this crew was apparently going to try and overwhelm our defenses with sheer numbers. It was a good play. Even with our newly installed anti-missile guns, sixteen of them at once was pushing things.
“Mark, stand by on the port side Gatling guns,” I ordered, hoping that the computer could lock onto all of the missiles in time to intercept them. If even one got through we were finished.
Then, as I continued to watch the sensor return, I saw the cluster of missiles begin to break up. One after the other the missiles began to veer off course. In moments all but three had turned away from their original trajectories. I let out a long breath.
“Remind me to give Barney a bonus for reprogramming those guidance systems,” I said.
“Hey,” Mark spoke up, “I had something to do with it too, you know.”
“Fine,” I said as I watched the sensor screen. “I’ll put you down for a bonus as soon as you take care of those last three missiles.”
“Oh!”
Mark quickly pressed a control and the missiles disappeared from the screen one after the other as the Gatling guns took them out. The last one was close enough when it blew that we heard the patter from the shredded bits of its housing sleeting against the outer hull as the ship trembled from the shockwave.
Moments after we destroyed the last of the missiles our torpedo reached the cruiser. The ship had only barely gotten under way when the torpedo slammed into its bow. I had trained one of the ship’s cameras in that direction and I watched as the torpedo exploded in a brilliant fireball and the cruiser’s nose crumpled in on itself. The cruiser shuddered visibly, even from this distance, and its drive system cut out.
“Scratch one missile cru—”
Mark was cut off in mid sentence as the missiles that had gone astray began impacting the walls of the cavern. Brilliant explosions erupted all around us, buffeting the ship about as the missiles slammed into section after section of the pirate base, obliterating large areas of the complex in huge, fiery explosions. As the shockwaves from the various blasts slammed into us from all sides, our ship was violently thrown about. I gripped the armrests of my chair to keep my seat.
“Are we still tracking that shuttle?” I called to Morgana.
“Don’t worry, Captain, we’re not going to lose that ship,” Sasha said.
I looked at the helm and saw that she was clutching the edge of her console with one hand while she flew the ship with the other. When there was a momentary lull in the buffeting she reached over her shoulders, pulled out the restraint straps and quickly locked herself into her seat.
“You’re not getting away that easily, you witch!” she growled.
I shot a glance at Morgana who looked back at me with raised eyebrows. There was obviously some story there that I’d have to remember to ask our new pilot about later.
As the explosions from the missile impacts continued to go off around us, I saw that we were rapidly approaching the far side of the cavern. Although I couldn’t make out the shuttle on the main screen amid the brilliance of the explosions, it still showed up as a return on the sensor display.
“They just entered that tunnel,” Morgana called out. “Sensors show it as a straight shaft several kilometers long.” She paused, frowning at her display for a few moments. “According to my scans it runs dead straight to within fifty meters of the surface and stops. But there are no structures or branching passages leading anywhere. It’s a dead end.”
There was no way they were going to trap themselves like that. Angela had something up her sleeve.
“They didn’t take a long range shuttle in there just to let themselves get cornered,” I said. “Everybody stay on your toes.”
On the main screen the tunnel entrance came into view. Sasha kept her hands on the attitude controls, making minute adjustments to our course as we sped toward the opening. A quick look at my board showed that we were flying true, on a course that would take us directly down the center of the tunnel.
The entrance grew rapidly ahead of us. Sasha activated the ship’s spotlights, shining them into the opening and illuminating the way into its depths for a hundred meters. Then we were speeding into the mouth of the tunnel and—
A loud bang reverberated through the ship. Everyone was thrown sideways as the ship lurched around us and the rear end slewed to starboard. Sasha fought with the controls. The aft end struck the tunnel wall a glancing blow before she could wrestle the ship back into the center of the passage.
“What the hell…? Damage report!” I called.
Chris checked his board quickly. “I don’t see any structural damage,” he said a moment later. “All systems seem to be running normally.”
/> I surged to my feet and stepped up to the helm. “What happened?” I asked, trying to keep my temper in check. After all, I was the one who had put her in the pilot seat.
“I don’t know, Captain,” she said, sounding flustered. “It felt like—”
“It’s not her fault, Jason,” Morgana said. “We forgot about the mooring claw. It must have struck the side of the tunnel and gotten torn lose. Thankfully the hydrolics had been cut or it might have taken some of the hull plating with it. At worst we’ve got a few new dings in our hide.”
I looked down at Sasha, feeling guilty that I had almost blamed her for what happened.
“And you kept us from crashing into the tunnel wall,” I said. “Excellent work, Ms. Goodkin. Thank you.”
Being the good pilot she had shown herself to be, Sasha kept her attention focused on the controls as we sped through the tunnel, but I could see her neck color slightly.
“Now let’s run that ship down,” I said. “How far ahead are they?”
“About two kilometers,” Sasha said, glancing at her board. “But they’re almost at the end of the tunnel. If they don’t pull up soon they’re going to—”
At that moment a brilliant flash lit the main screen. It was so bright that the camera filters dimmed the image.
“An antimatter charge was detonated at the end of the tunnel,” Morgana reported.
My stomach clenched. Were they trying to seal the tunnel behind them? It was too narrow in here to turn our ship around. At the speed we were moving it would take time to bring us to a full stop using just the breaking thrusters, time we might not have. I was about to order Sasha to begin emergency breaking when I saw that the way ahead was reading clear on the navigational sensor display. Then I realized what they had done. This tunnel was a bolt hole after all. They had just blown an exit through the outer layers of the asteroid.
I looked up at the main screen. The rough hewn tunnel walls flashed past in the circle of light projected by the ship’s spotlights. Beyond that was the dark, distant reach of the tunnel. And in the center of that darkness a darker circle grew. I checked the navigational sensor display and saw that the other ship no longer appeared on the screen.
I looked back at Morgana. “Where’s that other ship?”
“They just left the tunnel,” she said. “I’m picking up an increase in their engine output. They’re powering up to make a run for it.”
We were less than two thousand meters from the tunnel exit and closing rapidly. Once we were outside the asteroid they couldn’t hope to outrun us.
“They’re not home free yet,” I said.
The words were just out of my mouth when the deck dropped out from under me. It was as if god had grabbed the Prometheus in one hand and was shaking us like a toy. I could feel the ship being battered from all sides as we slammed against the tunnel walls. I grabbed onto the helm console and fought to keep from being thrown across the cabin. The main screen flared with a brilliant light that washed out everything else before it blanked completely. Several consoles shorted out around me. For an instant I thought that a second charge had been detonated to seal the opening we were speeding toward, but something about the way the light had lit up the tunnel made me realize that this flash was coming from behind us.
Then, as an especially violent tremor passed through the ship, I lost my grip.